


Problem Child

by Piinutbutter



Series: Suddenly, Demons [1]
Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dubious Consent, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: Bernhard only wants the best for him. Durandal knows that much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: Gratuitously Self-Indulgent AU is Gratuitously Self-Indulgent, More News at Nine.
> 
> I’ve been thinking about this AU for months, and written a couple snippets in it before. But this pile of angst and daddy issues is the first thing I’ve made for it that has enough worldbuilding to stand on its own, so...enjoy?

Durandal hated tribute days.

At regular intervals throughout each moon cycle, the Sanctuary doors were opened to surrounding villages. The temple grounds were flooded with humans, the air filled with their entreaties. It gave Durandal a headache.

Or maybe that was the bright afternoon sun in his eyes. His visiting area faced the west, and the morning clouds had fled the sky just in time for him to sit on his stone dais and receive visitors.

He had to remind himself that, compared to his siblings, his job was easy. Leela handled affairs of war and power, and she was kept busy in an age where petty civil squabbles escalated to wars at the drop of a hat. She complemented Tycho’s duties of medical and scientific progress nicely; humans demanded better weapons, then acted shocked when their allies were injured more severely every day. All of it made Durandal grateful that the Sanctuary and the village immediately surrounding it were legally enforced peace zones.

Durandal was left to handle various odd duties that were meant to improve humans’ quality of life. Most of the time, that meant he was dealing with food. Healing failing crops, blessing soon-to-bloom harvests, anything that was asked of him. One memorable day, he’d been called upon to use his magic to help a struggling mother produce more breastmilk. He’d succeeded, but Tycho had teased him about it, suggesting he take on a more feminine form to go along with his new reputation as a fertility demon.

The teasing was only that. All three of them had become rather attached to the humanoid forms they’d adopted upon being summoned to the human realm. They couldn’t be mistaken for full humans - their tails, horns, claws, and monochrome eyes made sure of that. But they took on their own identities in their appearances. Durandal kept his dark hair long, in an elaborate braid that reached his waist. It was striking paired with the soft green that filled his eyes. Tycho’s vibrant red eyes matched the wild curls of his hair, which he never bothered to tame or style. Leela’s eyes were black, but her pin-straight hair was a soft white-gold. It reminded Durandal of the pristine white stone of the temple paths when they were tinted by sunrise.

Those stones seemed a little too white today. Durandal narrowed his eyes against the glare, squinting at the girl who was kneeling at the base of his dais. She was asking him something, begging his help with...something about her father? Her words were muffled, somehow. Durandal struggled to make them out. He leaned forward, trying to hear more clearly. The girl inched back, then realized her mistake and held out her hands to him with a nervous smile. One palm was filled with coins. Durandal had no use for human currency, but the temple required a monetary tribute from all its guests in order to pay for its own upkeep. The other hand held a cup filled with fresh spring water and seasoned with local herbs - a traditional offering to demons.

Durandal reached out and took the cup with a shaking hand. He didn’t know why it was shaking. He asked the girl to repeat herself, but his own voice was distant in his ears. He frowned and began to take a sip, wondering if the heat was getting to him. His grip was too weak. The cup clattered to the dais steps, followed by Durandal himself as he collapsed.

When Durandal came to his senses, he wished he hadn’t. His head was filled with a searing pain that made him want to scrape his skin from his skull. He rolled over and groaned, realizing that the surface he was lying on was too soft to be stone. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. Instead of the stinging light of the sun, he was met with the cool dimness of a familiar tent.

“You gave that child quite the scare.” Bernhard’s voice was followed by his hands, pushing Durandal onto his back and pressing a cool cloth onto his forehead.

“I don’t know what happened,” Durandal muttered, watching the Sanctuary’s healer fuss with a table full of supplies. He was well-acquainted with Bernhard’s mannerisms as he worked.

At the initial point of their summoning, all demons were assigned an individual human as a guardian - a handler, essentially, to guide the demon in humanity’s ways and take responsibility if it started causing trouble. Leela and Tycho’s guardians had taken their hands off their wards after the first few moon cycles, after his siblings had proved their responsibility and independence. But Durandal had been showing signs of illness lately, requiring Bernhard to stay close and help him recover. Everyone agreed that he had been a fortunate pick for a guardian.

“You fainted,” was all the explanation Bernhard gave. “Here. Sit up. Drink this.”

A warm arm around his back helped Durandal up. Whatever concoction Bernhard had made smelled awful, but he gulped it down regardless. He coughed once it was gone, leaning against Bernhard’s shoulder. The healer was an older man in human years, but he was kind to Durandal. Patient with him...most of the time. He’d been working tirelessly for the last few cycles trying to devise an appropriate treatment for Durandal’s mysterious ailments. Skilled healers were fluent in both the fields of medicine and middling human magic. If anyone could help Durandal, it was Bernhard.

Durandal set the empty cup aside. “I’m sorry if I caused any upset.”

“Just a bit of worry,” Bernhard assured him with a warm smile. “Tycho and Leela are finishing their own duties for the day. I’d recommend going out and trying to socialize for a bit before sleeping your shame away.”

Durandal flushed. “I’m not ashamed.” Alright, he was a little embarrassed at fainting in front of everyone. But it wasn’t something he could help. What was there to feel shame at?

Bernhard chuckled. “Alright then.”

 

* * *

 

After lingering in the comfort of Bernhard’s tent for a little longer, Durandal slipped outside. To his surprise, Leela was sitting on a bench in the shade nearby. She hopped to her feet as soon as she saw him.

“Are you alright?” she asked, gripping his shoulders in a loose hug as she examined his face.

“As much as I can be,” he answered, trying to give her a smile. Leela was too kind, really. The other humans had begun to avoid Durandal, whispering about his erratic behavior and failing health when they thought he couldn't hear them. Perhaps his sister only stayed close to him out of familial duty.

“Good. We’re worried about you, you know,” she said, gesturing beside her as she returned to the bench. Durandal’s tail curled instinctively around the one of bench’s stone legs as he joined her.

“‘We?’” Durandal asked with obvious skepticism.

“Tycho cares about you,” she insisted. “Even if he doesn’t show it so much.”

Durandal sighed, rubbing at his neck. The light metal collar there chafed against his skin. All demons were fitted with the trinkets to bind them to the human realm and their hosts’ wills. Powerful magic flowed through the collars, preventing their wearers from egregiously disobeying humans, and more importantly, from hurting them. Tycho had once swiped his claws at a guard to test the collars’ strength. He was curled on the ground and gasping moments later.

As annoying and uncomfortable as the things were, Durandal understood the need for them. Humans loved their wars, and unbound demons were powerful beyond human measure. If a human could summon a demon only to force it to serve as a weapon, the damage done would be unthinkable.

Leela spoke with him until the sun set, and she was called away for a meeting with the temple heads. Durandal wasn’t invited. He hardly minded, though - his headache was pulling him towards sleep.

 

* * *

 

Of course, sleep tumbled out of Durandal’s grasp the moment he crawled into his own bed. The pain in his head spread and worsened, until it felt impossible to bear. Durandal resorted to falling on all fours and rubbing one of his horns on the floor of his chamber in a desperate attempt to ease the pressure in his skull. It helped, temporarily, but sleep still eluded him. As he tossed and turned in his bed, a thought came to him. He mulled it over once, twice, then threw off his covers and stepped quietly out of his room.

Durandal’s intentions were wholly innocent. An attendant had once told him human children slept in their guardians’ beds when they couldn’t sleep. Durandal wasn’t a child, and Bernhard didn’t see him as family, but...it couldn’t hurt to ask, surely. If Bernhard turned him away, that would be that, and Durandal would never bring the matter up again.

Bernhard didn’t turn him away. He was confused, at first, but after a nervous explanation from his ward, he let Durandal slip under the soft covers on his bed. The only physical contact they made was when Durandal woke in the morning and found that his tail had wound around Bernhard’s legs of its own volition. He pulled away with a flustered apology, but Bernhard didn’t seem to mind. He patted Durandal’s back and invited him to return at any time.

Innocent intentions, Durandal swiftly realized, didn’t mean much. No matter how he saw the situation, Durandal was still a healthy demon in the body of a young, attractive humanoid. Climbing into another’s bed in the middle of the night. Humans were sexual creatures, though they had far more societal hangups about it than demons did. On the second night, Bernhard rested a broad hand on Durandal’s waist and pulled him close. Durandal didn’t move away.

Durandal didn’t hate it. It was good...enough. Good enough to come back on the next night, and any sleepless nights after. As an unexpected bonus, Bernhard’s mood was typically much lighter on days after Durandal joined with him. His patience for Durandal’s mistakes stretched further.

He was beginning to settle comfortably in this new routine when it was disrupted. The opening to Bernhard’s tent was shoved aside late one night, and Tycho strode in brazenly.

“Sir Bernhard, please tell me you know the whereabouts of...” Tycho’s eyes went wide at the sight of his brother scrambling to cover himself with Bernhard’s covers. “...Durandal. I suppose you don’t need to answer that.”

To anyone but Durandal, Bernhard would look unfazed. His face was carefully composed into blank politeness as he met Tycho’s gaze. But Durandal saw the tension in his spine, the stiff curve of his fingers. Ever so slightly, Durandal inched away from him.

“You would do well to announce yourself before you enter others’ homes, Tycho,” Bernhard said, calmly. “What do you need Durandal for?”

Tycho stumbled over his first few words. “Leela wanted the three of us to...” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry, I can’t just ignore what’s happening here. Durandal, get out of there. Now. We need to talk.”

Durandal sat up and lifted his chin, which just looked silly given that he was still clutching a sheet to his chest. “Do we? My personal decisions aren’t part of your domain.”

A bruising grip wrapped around his arm. “Durandal,” Bernhard said, quiet and full of warning. “Speak with him.”

Tycho gave them a stilted nod. “I’ll be outside.”

When Tycho’s footsteps faded, Bernhard pressed his lips to Durandal’s ear and spoke as softly as he could. Demons heard well. “I don’t want word of this getting out, understand? It could do terrible things to my reputation. It might cost me this job. Do you want me to have to leave you?”

Durandal’s jaw tensed as he shook his head.

“Then do whatever is needed to keep your brother quiet.”

Durandal dressed in a hurry. He found Tycho sitting on the edge of the fountain in the empty commons square. Durandal perched next to him, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Well?”

Tycho sighed and let his head fall back to meet his brother’s gaze. “What’s gotten into you now? You know how humans are about sex. Seducing one is a dangerous move on its own. And you had to go and do it to your guardian, of all people?”

Durandal’s tail flicked in annoyance, cresting the surface of the water behind him and splashing them both with a small spray. “What happens between Bernhard and me isn’t your business.”

Tycho turned to face him directly. His eyes were narrowed and dark. “It will be when the rest of the humans get word of it. I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, brother, but we’re here on their terms.” Tycho pointed at the silver collar around his neck, flashing bright where the moonlight struck it. “I doubt they’ll be as understanding as I am when they hear a demon is trying to manipulate his guardian with sexual favors.”

Durandal almost fell into the fountain as his back straightened abruptly. “That’s not at _all_ -”

“It doesn’t matter. Humans are irrational and suspicious, especially where their pet demons are concerned.”

He was right, of course. Durandal just wasn’t ready to hear it.

Tycho tugged a stray curl behind his ear. “If you’re so desperate for satisfaction, you can always come to me or Leela.”

Durandal’s gaze fell. He knew that his siblings sometimes sought each other out for entertainment. The idea of sleeping with either of them, however, sat poorly in his stomach. Leela was too good for him, on a pedestal that Durandal didn’t want to stain by dragging her down to his level. Tycho, on the other hand, frightened him. His bed was about as welcoming as a pool of lava.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Durandal said, having no intention to do so.

“Good.” Tycho stood and stretched his neck. “You cause an awful lot of trouble, brother.”

Durandal splashed him with water. Deliberately, this time.

 

* * *

 

On the rare days when Durandal was entirely freed from duties, he took pleasure in sneaking naps on top of the bell towers at the perimeter of the Sanctuary grounds. They were quiet, cozy, and if he got to them by late morning, the sun would be at a perfect angle to warm his carelessly splayed limbs. No one climbed the bell towers outside of ceremonial occasions or the rare need for defense. Here, Durandal could unwind and go unjudged.

Durandal was still half-dozing, curled happily in the shifting sunlight, when voices drifted up to him from the ground. Humans out for a walk along the wall was hardly unusual, and Durandal would have tuned them out and gone back to sleep, had he not heard his own name. His ears twitched.

“No, honestly,” a man’s voice continued to his companion’s apparent disbelief, “Nelle saw him sneaking out of Bernhard’s tent before dawn.”

“The man’s a healer,” a woman’s voice pointed out. “And the demon is his ward. There are perfectly good reasons why he could have had to stay a night.”

“ _A_ night, sure. But Nelle started watching for him after the first time. Four nights is a hell of a coincidence. Besides, if he was there on innocent business, why the attempt at discretion?”

The sunlight was rendered useless against the chill that filled Durandal’s limbs. Whether these humans would disapprove of his and Bernhard’s relations or not, the man and this Nelle were clearly the gossiping type. Tycho knowing was bad enough. The last thing Durandal needed was the whole temple staff casting their judgments on him.

The woman let out what Durandal could only assume was a deliberately obnoxious sigh, flapping her lips. “I suppose. I’m mostly in disbelief that Bernhard would stoop so low. Durandal is pretty, even I can see that, but surely Bernhard could have found someone more agreeable and less...”

“Crazy?” the man volunteered.

The woman laughed in agreement. “Yes, that.”

Durandal’s fingers curled. Claws gently scraped the skin of his palms.

“You might be thinking about it from the wrong angle. What if Durandal propositioned him? Bernhard’s been so generous with him, the man must have endless wells of pity. Otherwise, I have to believe he would have given up ages ago.”

The cold in Durandal’s veins was replaced with searing heat in his neck and stomach. How could they speak so callously of him, after all he’d done for their people?

“I could see that,” the woman said, thoughtful. “I at least hope Durandal’s a good lay, after all his guardian’s put up with.”

No. Not how _could_ they - how _dare_ they.

The conversation shifted to less obscene topics, but Durandal was already climbing down the side of the bell tower. He forewent the slow human convenience of stairs, digging his claws into the tower’s wall and descending it in, if not dead silence, what passed as dead silence to human ears.

Durandal only vaguely recognized the two humans lounging against the Sanctuary wall beneath him. The woman was a guard who Durandal sometimes spotted patrolling the north side, and the man was a groundskeeper. Who they were couldn’t matter less to Durandal right now. What they said about him couldn’t matter more.

Time passed so quickly. One moment, Durandal was perched on the tower, his head pounding so hard it made him dizzy. Then, he was on top of the humans, shoving them to the ground, their necks in each of his hands. Fragile. The surprise in their eyes turned to confusion, then to fear as Durandal just kept squeezing harder, and that - that was amazing. It was the best thing Durandal had ever felt. So much better than sex.

It was only when the humans’ faces began to turn red that Durandal realized his collar wasn’t even hurting him. There was no way it didn’t realize he was harming not just one human, but two. In the moment, Durandal wasn’t even particularly opposed to killing them. It didn’t sound so dramatic, when they were so close like this. It would be so easy. He could just...not let go.

His collar didn’t stop him. Leela did. Strong arms hiked under Durandal’s shoulders tore him away from his targets. A voice was shouting his name, accompanied with questions, demands about what he was doing. Durandal wanted to turn and yell at his sister. Not just for having the audacity to interrupt his fun. In the moment, Leela disgusted him. Her health, her distant guardian, her impeccable behavior - all of it earned his ire.

When Durandal refused to answer Leela’s furious inquiries, she dragged him to Bernhard, telling the man what his ward had been caught doing. There might have been an order to keep Durandal under house arrest until she could understand the whole situation. Durandal didn’t care.

Bernhard didn’t ask questions of his own. All he did before returning to his work was hook his finger under Durandal’s collar, glance at the unmarked skin, and smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned to only update this AU with shorter fics that didn’t really form one coherent story. But then I started working on a direct followup to this, so I guess it gets chapters now. /o\

The worst part of house arrest was the boredom.

Bernhard’s tent was comfortable, but it was small, and Durandal had to fight the urge to pace without anything else to distract him from the distinct worry that he was in serious trouble. He’d heard what humans did to demons who proved themselves too dangerous to handle. They weren’t sent back to their own realm to live their lives out in peace. They were slaughtered like animals on the spot - no chances taken of anyone coming back for revenge. Bernhard would vouch for him, he was sure, and Leela might be a voice of reason now that she’d had time to calm down, but who said anyone would listen to them?

It would be such a trivial thing to lose his life over. If he had just ignored the humans, if he hadn’t lost his temper...Durandal buried his face in Bernhard’s bed to try and shut out the nagging thoughts. It smelled like human. It smelled like Durandal’s mistakes.

Maybe everyone was right. He was acting crazy.

His headache was coming back.

A guard was stationed outside the tent’s entrance to make sure Durandal didn’t run off. It was well into the night, and Durandal had almost managed to fall asleep by virtue of sheer exhaustion when he was startled back into awareness by a conversation outside. Must be another guard coming to take over the watch.

“Hey,” the guard on duty said. “Weren’t you supposed to have ditched this place by now?”

A resigned sigh came from the new arrival. “My leave request was rejected. Again. Don’t even ask about my transfer request.”

“That’s rough. How long before you just...up and quit?”

“And confront the wonderful job options of war, war, and war? No thanks. I know what people are willing to hire people like me for, and as much as I’m sick of this post, it’s still better than killing innocent people.”

“Fair. Look, I’d love to stay and keep you company, but I’ve got morning patrol.”

“Ouch. I won’t keep you from sleep, then.”

Silence returned to the outside of the tent as the first guard walked away. Durandal rolled over and tried to sleep again. He was more successful this time, only waking to a brisk, soft conversation outside that was followed by the opening to the tent being pulled aside.

Durandal shot to his feet and grasped Bernhard’s arms, staring up at him with an expression that begged for good news. “What did they say?”

Bernhard pushed him back gently. “That you’re unbound and dangerous.”

Durandal’s stomach fell. “But - but you told them they were wrong, right?”

“About you being dangerous, yes. Anyone can see that you’ve become unbound.”

Claws scraped against metal as Durandal put a hand to his collar. “I’m...what? Since when?”

Bernhard glanced back at the tent’s entrance, then put his finger to his lips. Durandal nodded and kept quiet as Bernhard sat down and breathed into his cupped palms. Then his guardian spoke, voice low and grave.

“I’m sorry that I don’t have better circumstances to explain this to you under. The truth is, Durandal, I’ve always hated this temple. The way it treats demons isn’t natural. You’re not meant to be collared like dogs, your powers stripped. I saw the opportunity to help you, and I just couldn’t...”

He trailed off, rubbing at his temples. Durandal put what he hoped was a comforting hand on his knee.

“I cut your bond with the rest of the humans,” Bernhard continued. “You have to understand, it was with the best of intentions.”

Durandal blinked, stunned at the thought that his guardian would go to such extremes to help him.

“I...thank you,” Durandal whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” Bernhard insisted. “I did it without informing you, and now look what’s happened.”

Cold reality returned to Durandal with those words. “They’re not planning to show mercy to me, are they,” he said, numb.

Bernhard shook his head, rueful. “But - here.” The healer stood up and went to one of the chests he kept locked, pulling something out. A smooth, rounded white stone caught the light. It was strung on a simple cord. Bernhard settled it around Durandal’s neck, and Durandal stroked the stone curiously between his fingers. There was a hint of magic beneath the cold surface.

“Listen carefully,” Bernhard said. “I want you to escape. Run. Undetected would be best, but do whatever you need to do to get out of this godforsaken place alive.”

Slowly, Durandal nodded. He wasn’t confident in his ability to do that, but...he was a demon no longer barred from using force. He needed to stop thinking like a coward.

“Where should I run?” Durandal wasn’t overly familiar with the surrounding villages. He couldn’t be, when they were never allowed to leave the Sanctuary grounds.

“Anywhere. Move whenever you need to ensure that no one from the temple gets their hands on you.” The _except me_ went unspoken. “The outside world won’t be friendly to you. But don’t worry.” Bernhard tapped the stone. “Under no circumstances are you to take this off, understand? It will allow me to track you down once I’ve made my arrangements to leave here. It will take a while, as I’m sure you’ll cause chaos with your disappearance, but I will find you. That, I promise.”

Durandal threw his arms around Bernhard, overwhelmed and scared half out of his wits. He didn’t want to die, and he refused to roll over and offer his neck to the humans that had enslaved him, but the idea of living completely on his own in an unfamiliar world was intimidating in its own right. Durandal couldn’t just go around strangling everyone who gave him trouble. He’d have to adjust to a human way of life if he wanted to live among them. Having Bernhard there would be a blessing.

“Don’t get yourself killed,” Bernhard reminded him, patting his back. “You’re too important to me. I can’t risk losing you.”

Durandal muttered, “I promise.”

Bernhard stroked his hair. “Good boy.”

 

* * *

 

According to Bernhard, the temple heads were planning to retrieve him at dawn. That left Durandal a few hours to wait, more terrified than a demon had any right to feel, until the dead of night. He knew it was time to act when the Sanctuary was quiet as far as Durandal’s ears could hear, but for the shuffling and occasional humming of the guard outside.

He had a plan. The temple guards were humans, but they weren’t deaf. There was no way Durandal could sneak out that wouldn’t alert the guard to his presence. Which meant he needed to use the man to his advantage.

If worst came to worst, Durandal could slit the man’s throat and be done with it. He didn’t want to, but with the prospect of death staring him down, Durandal would do anything to escape it.

He was still thinking like a coward, he knew it. Just a more violent coward.

Durandal reminded himself to breathe as he checked that Bernhard’s stone was safely around his neck. His guardian had also given him a pouch of money, now stowed deep in his pocket. There was nothing left to do but step out of the tent. Before the guard could ask what he was doing, Durandal had his arm locked around the man’s neck and his hand over his mouth.

“Make a sound,” Durandal hissed into his ear, “and I kill you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this little part of the AU! It provides the setup for Durandal and the security officer to skip merrily around the ~~galaxy~~ land getting into all sorts of trouble, so it's done its job. I'll definitely be posting more fic in this universe, though. I'm having so much fun with it, and it means the world to me that people seem to be enjoying it. :D (Speaking of, seriously, thank you all for the nice comments.  <3)

The guard grunted against Durandal’s palm, his own hand hovering over the hilt of his weapon.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” Durandal said. He tried to sound like a cold, confident demon rather than a guy who was scared witless. He hoped the human couldn’t feel the pounding of Durandal’s heart where his chest was pressed against the man’s back.

Durandal closed his eyes and mouthed silent words. It was an old spell he’d learned from Tycho, on a day where a thoroughly understaffed healing team had led to Durandal helping out with an emergency surgery that the unfortunate patient definitely didn’t want to be awake for. While the effects were dependent on the size, age, and health of the human it was cast on, Durandal guessed it would knock this one out for a good ten minutes at least. Long enough for him to get away, which was all that mattered.

His casting was rudely interrupted by an elbow driving into his stomach. Durandal sputtered, stumbling back as the human broke his hold. Before he could catch his breath, Durandal found himself staring at the thick barrel of a rifle pressed between his eyes.

“Nice try,” the human said, his voice deadpan. Now that they were facing each other, Durandal got an impression of the man’s face. Strong jaw, dark eyes, darker hair. More importantly, he looked almost bored. Uncaring of the creature at the other end of his bullet. Would he even give a damn about ending Durandal’s life?

Spurred as much by desperation as he was by the sudden flash of anger at human callousness, Durandal abandoned his original idea to use the man as a hostage. He launched himself at the guard, intending to tackle him to the ground like he had the two humans that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. But... _something_ happened, and when the human struck the ground with a thud, it wasn’t the hard stone of the Sanctuary beneath his body. Vibrant green surrounded them - tall grass that tickled Durandal’s arms where he kept the human pinned.

Durandal jerked his head up, taking in the area around them. There were no walls in sight. Just gently sloping hills covered in grass and flowers. He spotted a grove of trees to his left, and a pinprick of white and gray in the distance. He had to squint to recognize it as the outer wall of the Sanctuary.

The human did Durandal the favor of expressing his current thoughts. “What in the hells...?”

Durandal had no idea. But the guard’s voice reminded Durandal to disarm him. He wrapped his claws around the guard’s wrist and gave him a heavy shock of magic. A normal human would have fainted. The guard did no such thing, and in fact, it took Durandal a fair amount of effort to pry the rifle from his numb fingers.

Durandal had never held a human weapon in his life, and he had no idea how to use the thing. But he kept it aimed on the guard as he stood up and took several slow steps away.

“Look,” Durandal said, and his damned voice was shaking. “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t even want to hurt you.”

The guard sat up. Durandal fumbled with the gun, but all the man did was rest an elbow on his knee and raise an eyebrow. “So what do you want?”

Durandal raised his chin and gripped his own wrist with his free hand to stop it from shaking. “I want out.”

The guard stood up and brushed his clothes free of dirt. “So you can go strangle more innocent people?”

“They-!” Durandal stopped himself, took a breath, and lowered his voice to a volume that didn’t sound quite so manic. “They deserved it.”

“Oh, yeah?” The guard stepped forward and, faster than Durandal could avoid, grabbed Durandal’s wrist in an iron grip. Durandal shouted an incoherent noise of protest, but the guard didn’t take his gun back. Instead, he raised Durandal’s wrist and rested the tip of the rifle’s barrel against his own forehead. “Do I deserve it?” 

_Yes_ , Durandal thought. _You deserve it, for being a human. For treating my kind like this. For treating me like this._

Durandal removed his finger from the trigger. “No,” he said, soft.

The guard smiled. He didn’t stop Durandal from lowering the weapon and pulling away. “Heh. Thought so. You’re really bad at acting like a killer, you know that?”

“Excuse me?” Durandal’s lips curled in confusion.

“It’s weird,” the man continued, stretching and examining the boringly picturesque landscape stretching out in front of them. “You’re a demon. And you messed those guys up - Sadie’s straight-up refusing to patrol any more. Last I heard she was begging to be reassigned to another temple.”

Durandal rubbed his arm and bit his tongue. The human turned back to look him up and down.

“But you’re really, really awful at being violent. So what gives?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Durandal muttered, bitter. “They’ll kill me, back there.”

Referring to the temple as ‘back there’ seemed to remind them both of their physical location.

“Speaking of,” the human said, “What _was_ that? Some sort of teleportation magic?”

“I...don’t know,” Durandal answered, honestly. “I’ve never been able to do that before. I’m not sure what caused it in the first place.” He’d have to ask Bernhard about it, when they reunited. An awkward silence stretched between them, until Durandal dared to ask, “So...are you going to let me go? Now that you know I’m not going to kill anyone? Which I’ve never done, by the way,” he felt the need to add.

“Go? Where do you plan on going?” the human demanded, gesturing at the flora around them.

“Somewhere else,” Durandal said, defensive. “Anywhere else.”

“That’s real specific of you.” The human dragged his palm down his face. “Do you think you can just waltz into some random village and expect to be welcomed? People will freak the moment they realize an unbound demon’s walking around on his own.”

The annoying human had an annoying point. Durandal crossed his arms and considered for a minute. When a solution came to him, he looked to the human with a slowly-forming smile.

“But I’m not an unbound demon,” Durandal said, hope tinting his voice. “I’m a nice, obedient demon being escorted to another temple, somewhere far away. By my big, strong human guardian.”

The human sniffed. “You what.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? You come with me and pretend to be my guardian so nobody bothers me.”

He received a blank stare in return. “Why should I?”

Durandal’s first instinct was to threaten him. Then he considered offering sexual favors. His rational brain wasn’t sure which one was worse.

“Listen,” Durandal said once his brain deigned to let him think logically, “I heard you talking with that other guard. You want to get out and do something with your life? Here’s your chance. I’m giving it to you.”

“The chance to be stuck with you?”

“Only until-” _Only until Bernhard finds me._ “Only until we get far enough away.”

The human looked off into the distance for a moment, then sighed. “You’re crazy.”

Durandal turned and walked in the opposite direction of the Sanctuary, gesturing for him to follow. “Yes, but I’m crazy and free.”


End file.
